Secret Santa
by mouseears
Summary: Paige suggests that the Scorpion cyclone do a Secret Santa gift exchange for the holiday season; unexpected results follow...
1. Chapter 1

**Secret Santa**

**Author's Note:** Hi, everyone! This is my first fic for _Scorpion_, my new favorite television show. I tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible and to make all of the interactions believable. Please drop me a line if you think anything could use a change or improvement. Aside from that, I hope you enjoy the story!

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, I do not own Scorpion. I can't write action-packed plotlines and subtle character development like they do on the show. The story idea just came to me one day during the holiday season.

**Chapter One:** The Idea

They had all agreed not to do Secret Santa.

Despite Paige's suggestion that it might be fun and a chance for them to create holiday memories they didn't have as children, Walter had been adamantly against it.

"Secret Santa celebrates a holiday which derives from a pagan ritual used to celebrate the winter solstice. The gift-giving itself is a tradition dating from the Three Wise Men's gifts to the Christ child. Since none of us prescribe to any particular form of religion or paganism, we would just be partaking in another secular holiday practice endorsed by big corporations and small businesses to fuel our already-rampant materialism and consumerism, all under the guise that it's the 'season of giving.'"

"So I'm guessing that's a 'no' then," Paige said, crestfallen. She didn't bring it up again and the subject dropped. It was decided. December would just be another winter month for the Scorpion team. There would be no Secret Santa.

Perhaps that's why everyone was so surprised to find presents on their desks a few days before Christmas…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:** Maybe it's a bomb?

The team came into the warehouse just to finish up some paperwork and wrap up some projects before their week off. Cabe had called them before he jetted off to see his daughter for the holidays. He told them that they deserved some time off after all their hard work and to "stay out of trouble," he warned them before he hung up.

"Well, that takes all the fun out of the holidays," Toby said, pressing the end call button on their answering machine. That was when he noticed the box sitting next to the phone on his desk. "What the…?" He reached out to touch it before a voice shouted. "Toby, don't!"

The psychiatrist whirled around to find Happy standing at the door, her hand outstretched towards him.

"You crazy shrink!" Happy began, her words coming out rough and fast. "That could be a bomb! That could be anthrax! That could be anything! You could have gotten yourself blown up!"

Toby faced the tiny woman in front of him, a smirk dancing on his face. "I appreciate the great concern you're expressing for me, Happy. It's _very_ uncharacteristic of you."

Happy rolled her eyes. "Don't get used to it, Doc. I just didn't want to have the rest of us blown up along with you."

"Whatever you say, Haps," Toby said, shaking his head and smiling. In spite of her words, Toby had read the genuine concern in her eyes and the worry that had laced her voice when she saw him reaching for the mysterious box.

"Have Sylvester scan it first," she said, coming up to him. "He's already scanning mine."

"You got one, too?"

"Yeah, so did Walter and Paige, although the packages are of all different sizes, it's strange."

"Not that strange," said Walter, coming around the corner. "If someone were to bomb us or threaten us, there's a small chance they would use similar packages."

"Yes," Toby agreed. "Having different sized packages tricks the human brain into thinking that each one contains something different when they could all be the same thing or varying amounts of the same thing."

"Correct," said Sylvester, materializing in the room with the scanner. "For example," he said, pointing towards his desk. "The one on my desk is similar in size to Toby's, but mine weighs a lot more. The box on your desk, Happy, is light, but is much larger than both of ours combined."

After half an hour of scanning, probing, and discussion, the team decided that the boxes were relatively safe.

"Should we open them?" Sylvester asked, anxiously glancing at the others. Before anyone could respond, the front door slammed, making everyone jump.

"Hey, guys!" called Paige's voice from the front. "Guys? Where are you?"

"They're in here, Mom," came Ralph's voice. Moments later, Ralph and Paige appeared around the doorway.

"Wow, you found them quick," Paige said, her cheeks flushed from the cold air outside.

Ralph shrugged. "They all left wet shoeprints from the front door leading into this room. Must be the freezing rain we've been having recently."

Everyone beamed at Ralph. Paige ruffled his hair. "Well, aren't you the little genius?" Then she caught the look on everyone's face. "What?" she asked, slightly alarmed at everyone's grave expression. Walter stepped forward and beckoned to Paige. They moved into a corner and he explained that they all received mysterious boxes on their desks and did not know who it came from. Paige glanced to the team, then back to Walter. "Maybe it's Santa?" she asked innocently.

"Santa Claus is a fictional character based on a third-century saint from Turkey. The concept of a jolly old man who passes out gifts is used as a means for persuading children to behave on the premise that they receive rewards for their behavior in the form of Christmas gifts near the end of every year," Walter said in a low voice for Ralph's sake. "None of us believe in Santa Claus," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, maybe you don't have to believe in Santa Claus for him to exist," Paige said simply. "Besides," she said, turning to the team. "All of you are geniuses. I'm sure you'll figure it out," she concluded, grinning at each of them. They all raised an eyebrow. Well, Toby raised an eyebrow, Sylvester began to rock back and forth anxiously, and Happy set her face into a grim line. Walter, being Walter, did not change his expression.

"Well, let's see what it's all about then," he said finally, clearing away a table and setting his box on it. Everyone gathered around as he undid the brown wrapping paper and pulled out a…long, cylindrical tube?

"Oh-kay," said Paige, puzzled.

"A box within a box," Walter commented, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. "A reference to the Matryoshka dolls?" he mused.

"Matri-what?" asked Paige.

"The Matryoshka dolls are Russian nesting dolls, or babushka dolls, as some people call them. It's traditionally a set of colorfully painted dolls nestled one inside of another, decreasing in size as you continue opening them up."

"Oh, I think I've seen those before," said Paige.

And so it was. As Walter continued to open the box, each held a container of a different shape, cleverly fitted inside of the container before it. At long last, he came to the last one and it was the contents of this one that made everyone gasp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**—An unexpected visitor…No, two unexpected visitors!

"These are…" Walter breathed.

"Blueprints," said a gravelly voice behind them. Everyone turned at the sound.

"Cabe! We weren't expecting you to be here!"

The agent stopped and gave a small smile. "Well, isn't that the greeting everyone wants to hear?" he said.

"I thought you were on your way to visit your family," said Toby, raising his eyebrows.

"I was. I am. I just stopped by to wish you all a happy holiday season."

Everyone turned to look at each other and then back at Cabe. Clearly, there had to be something more.

And there was…

"And I wanted to stop by to see who had given me this," Cabe said, holding up a pair of rose-colored aviator sunglasses.

"You got one too!" Sylvester cried, pointing.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Cabe. Did you check it for safety? We all received mysterious gifts, too."

"Yeah, I had it checked. It's safe, only…"

"Only what?" everyone said, holding their breath, their hearts stopped.

"Only it keeps giving me all these weird numbers and abbreviations every few minutes."

"What do you mean by weird numbers?"

"Here, let us check it out," Sylvester said, stepping forward. Cabe held out the sunglasses and Sylvester picked them up with a clean handkerchief, just in case it had disease-carrying germs. The geniuses crowded around him as the sunglasses spat out little numbers and letters in a corner of the lenses.

"These are…" Sylvester began, eyebrows knitting together as he concentrated on them.

"Vital statistics," said Toby. "I learned them when I was in medical school. The numbers here, they represent your blood pressure, heart rate, and respiratory response."

Happy took the glasses from Sylvester to examine them. After a minute, she said, "Toby's right. The temple and earpiece have sensors to pick up electric pulses from when they come in contact with your skin." She turned them over in her expert hands. "It's good craftsmanship, too. The sensors are embedded so as to be almost invisible to the naked eye, but they are as sensitive as electrodes. Whoever made this knew what they were doing."

"But why?" Cabe asked. "Why would I get a pair of sunglasses that measures my vital statistics?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," said Walter. He turned to the team. "The rest of you, open your boxes. If we put all of the contents together, we might be able to figure out where they came from and who sent them."

The rest of the team scrambled to retrieve their packages. When they were all open, everyone looked at each other in bafflement. One by one, they took out the contents of their box and laid them on the table next to Walter's blueprints and Cabe's sunglasses. Most of the "presents" seemed to be things to wear. For example, inside of Toby's box was…a new hat. The hat was a dark fedora with a warm wool lining and the initials TMC embroidered in gold on the band. Happy received a new pair of motorcycle boots, sleek and smooth with extra reinforcements for safety and comfortable soles in the bottom. Paige received a fancy dress, emerald green tied with a silk sash and encrusted with jewels. Sylvester's present was the most baffling of all. When he opened his box, there lay the remnants of his precious Birdroni. Underneath the bird drone, however, was a letter which simply said, "If you look behind you, you can find the real Birdroni. I named her Tweety."

Everyone turned this way and that, looking for the target of the letter's hints. Ralph was the first one to spot it. "Here!" he called. They all rushed into the next room, where Ralph was pointing at a tall pole covered in a long sheet of cloth.

"Whoa, Ralph, get away from there," Walter said, moving quickly towards the boy genius. "It could be dangerous."

"I don't think it is," said Ralph. "I think it's just lonely. Maybe hungry, too."

"It? What it?" Paige said, putting her arm protectively around her son.

Walter stepped closer to the pole and carefully pulled off the sheet of cloth. What lied inside surprised them all, even more than the mysterious blueprints.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**—Deduction

The thing underneath the cloth looked out at the Scorpion family as seven pairs of eyes stared back at it. It cocked its head and blinked curiously.

"It's…" Cabe began.

"_Serinus canaria._ Most likely_ serinus canaria domestica_," Walter said, stepping closer to examine the bird. The bird was small but beautiful, its plumage a stunning gold color which faded to white-tipped wings and tail. It looked healthy, Walter noted.

"It's a canary," said Paige.

"It's Tweety," said Ralph simply, pointing to the words engraved on a tag dangling from the bird's foot.

"It's…mine?" said Sylvester.

"That's what the note says."

Everyone turned to watch Sylvester, and anyone who knew him well could almost predict the succession of emotions he would undergo:

Confusion: "The bird's mine?"

Realization: "The bird's mine."

Elation: "The bird's mine!

More elation: "This is truly the best day of my life. I've never had my own pet before. I'm going to take such good care of it. We're going to be the best of friends. I'm going to feed it every day and talk to it and read it poetry, and maybe teach it to sing!"

Here, Happy intervened. "Um, I think the note said that it was a 'she' and most female canaries don't sing."

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to love it anyway. I'm going to take it home with me and set up a special perch for it. Then I can calculate when's the best time to feed it and how much it should eat. Then I can run statistics on the average growth rates of canaries so I can always be sure I'm not overfeeding it or underfeeding it, and…and…and…" Here Sylvester stopped to take a breath. Then his eyes widened in horror, his jaw dropped, and everyone could suddenly see what was coming: the anxiety attack.

"Wait a minute, I don't know the first thing about taking care of Tweety. I've never had pets before. I can't even remember to feed myself, let alone feed a bird. What if I feed it the wrong thing? What if I'm too scared to clean up its cage? What if someone breaks in and steals it? What if—?"

Here, Sylvester was cut short by an unexpected touch on his hand.

"I'll help you take care of it, if you want," said Ralph quietly. He had put his hand into Sylvester's and was looking up at him with earnest, compassionate eyes. "I'm learning about how to take care of animals at school and we could look for books and help on the internet, too."

Everyone turned to look at the two, taking in the scene as a young boy offered his aid to calm his anxious friend. Paige's heart melted to see such kindness in her usually shy and quiet son. He really was a good person, like all of the other geniuses at Scorpion. Even if he had trouble processing his feelings, he still found ways to express to people that he cared about them.

Sylvester calmed down greatly. "Thanks a lot, buddy. I would really like that," he said, smiling down at Ralph.

"Well, that completes the last of the inventory," broke in Walter. He returned to the table with all of the gifts laid out on them. "So here we have blueprints, sunglasses, a hat, a dress, motorcycle boots, and a live bird," said Walter. "The thing that puzzles me is how they got all of this in here and especially how they sneaked in a live bird without anyone noticing until now."

"Maybe it was asleep this whole time?" suggested Toby.

"Maybe, but that still doesn't explain the rest of it," Walter said. He turned to the group. "When was the last time anyone was here?" he asked, looking from one member of the cyclone to another.

"I left early on Friday to pick up Ralph and take him to the dentist," said Paige. "I haven't been back since."

"Anyone else?" Walter asked, looking around at them.

"Let's see, Saturday was the last time I was here," said Toby. "I just came by to drop off food for Happy because I knew that she would be here working on her motorcycle all day and would forget to eat."

Happy made what sounded like an irritated growling noise at the back of her throat, but only said, "Yeah, Saturday was the last day I was here, too."

"When did you leave?"

"Around 9 pm, much earlier than I wanted to, because _somebody_ stopped by again and insisted that I eat some dinner," she said in the same irritated tone.

"That someone would be me," said Toby.

"We guessed as much," said Cabe.

"Sylvester?" Walter asked.

"I left Friday, too, late at night. It was the midnight release of the Super Fun Guy, first-edition, limited-run comic. I haven't been back since."

"Hmmm," said Walter. "I left on Friday to see my sister and then I came back here on Sunday morning to run some experiments with Cabe, Jr."

"Then I called and asked if you could update some security software as a favor for a friend," said Cabe.

"That you did."

"And we left around noon and didn't come back."

"That being deduced, the last ones to leave here were Cabe and I," said Walter, his dark eyes intense as the cogs in his brain turned their well-run machinery. "I didn't notice anything amiss when I left Sunday, and I definitely locked the place."

"Who was the first one here this morning?" asked Paige.

"Me," said Happy. "I came here and the door was still locked. I went straight to my workshop to gather my tools when I remembered that I left my tool kit near the docking area. When I passed by my desk to get it, I found the box."

"That's when I came in," said Sylvester.

"And found a box on your desk."

"Yes, I was in the middle of scanning mine and Happy's when I heard her yelling at someone."

"Again, that someone would be me," said Toby.

"We guessed that," everyone said together.

"And none of you sensed something off when you came in?"

"No, not until we saw the boxes."

"Then that only leaves a few suspects."

"Well, the obvious person would be Paige," said Toby. "She was the one who suggested Secret Santa in the first place."

Everyone looked to Paige.

"Oh, no, it definitely wasn't me," Paige said, holding up her hands. "I've been away the longest out of all of us, and besides, I got a box, too."

"Yes, to throw suspicion off of yourself," said Toby.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5—**Maybe it's a pirate!

"You think I can afford a dress like this?" Paige asked, picking up the emerald frock which glittered in the light. "Or any of these other presents?" she asked, sweeping her hand across the things that lied on the table. "I don't know how to get blueprints. As a matter of fact, I don't even know what those blueprints _are_, and I definitely don't have the technological know-how to make sunglasses that feed you your vital statistics. And I definitely have never seen this canary before," Paige finished, gesturing to Tweety.

Toby looked her up and down and said, "You're right. You didn't bring in any of these gifts. Nothing about your body language, facial expressions, or hand gestures indicate false statements or a rehearsed story. Paige is not our Santa."

"Thank you," said Paige. "Although I do like the dress so I hope I get to keep it."

"We just need to figure out what's the connection between all of these," said Walter, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the things on the table. "Sunglasses, blueprints, a hat, a dress, motorcycle boots, and a live bird," he said again and again, muttering to himself. "What's the connection?"

"You mean other than that they were left for us?" asked Happy. "Apparently by someone who knows us well?"

"A pirate!" Toby shouted suddenly. Everyone turned to eye him.

"You're saying a pirate left this for us?" asked Cabe, incredulity threading his voice.

"No, I'm saying that most of the gifts are things to wear, like something a pirate would wear. Boots can stand for pirate boots, a fedora for a pirate hat, sunglasses can stand for an eye patch, blueprints for a map, and the canary for a parrot."

"Yes, but when did pirates start wearing cocktail dresses?" asked Happy.

"Could be a female pirate," said Toby, shrugging.

"I'm going to make us something to eat," said Paige. "I bet all of this sleuthing is making everyone hungry."

Everyone nodded although none of them looked up at her, their eyes glued to the mysterious contents on the table. Paige sighed in fond exasperation. Geniuses can really get lost down the rabbit hole sometimes. Hopefully, they wouldn't go too far or Paige wouldn't know how to get them all out.

"Ralph, you want to come help me make lunch?" asked Paige. Her son nodded obediently and sidled over to his mother's side. "Cabe, would you like to stay for lunch?" asked Paige before they left for the kitchen.

"Might as well," he said. "My daughter's not expecting me until this evening so I still have time before I have to be on the road."

Paige nodded and turned towards the kitchen. At least Cabe wasn't one to go down a rabbit hole. Maybe he could help her keep the others above water.

When Paige and Ralph returned to the group, they were all sprawled around the garage in various states of mental calculation. Walter had his fingers propping up his temples as he stared and stared at the gifts. Happy was in deep discussion with Cabe over the design of the sunglasses as they looked it over and debated it. Toby's eyes flitted from one member of the cyclone to the other, scrutinizing their unspoken behavior and seeing if he could glean anything from it. Sylvester was next to Tweety, reading about how to care for canaries on his laptop. Paige saw Happy and Cabe glance around the room at everyone before they noticed Paige watching them.

"Lunch's ready," she said. Slowly, everyone meandered to the meals which Paige had prepared for them. Walter was the only one who stayed put, rubbing his temples and muttering to himself.

"Walter, please. You need to eat," said Paige.

"In a minute," said Walter. "I feel like I'm on the verge of something."

Paige paused. What to do now? Then she pursed her lips and put on a face of determination. "What you're on the verge of is collapsing from starvation."

"It's okay, Mom," said Ralph, appearing by her side. "If Walter won't eat, then I won't, either."

"What? You need to eat," said Walter and Paige together. They looked at each other for a moment, surprised, and then turned back to Ralph.

"Ralph, honey, you're a growing boy, and you know genius brains need their brain food."

"If geniuses need brain food, and Walter and I are both geniuses, then that means we both need to eat, correct?"

Walter and Paige nodded, a little dumbfounded.

"Well," Ralph continued, "From what I've read, the human brain takes up approximately 20% of the body's daily caloric intake and that's for an average person, not a genius. Now, taking in Walter's height, weight, and age…" (here Ralph looked him up and down) "factor in that he's a male and has not eaten for the last few hours I would calculate that Walter is due to have eaten, oh, one hour and 38 minutes ago."

Walter rubbed his hands on his lap. "Well, you can't argue with math," he said, somewhat sheepishly. Ralph came up to Walter and held out his hand. "Sit with me?" he asked.

"Of course," Walter obliged, taking his hand and letting him lead the two to the food which was waiting for them. How could you turn down a kid like that?

"That. Was. Awesome," Paige breathed.

"The kid's good," said Cabe, coming up to talk to Paige, a sandwich in his hand. "And a quick learner, too. He's watched Happy pull Walter out of the rabbit hole before, combine that with what Toby has taught him about using emotional leverage and what Sylvester taught him with statistics, he came up with his own strategy for getting Walter to come back to reality."

Paige just stared at her son, stunned at his growth and development since he came to be a part of the Scorpion cyclone. Even if the team conducted dangerous jobs sometimes, the wealth of learning, belonging, and acceptance which her son felt with the group more than made up for it. "I…I never knew," Paige said, so quietly that it almost wasn't there.

Ralph caught his mother watching him and he smiled and waved to her. Walter turned from where he was sitting and awkwardly waved, too. His mouth was full of half-eaten food and a slight blush had crept onto his face. Walter really hadn't realized how hungry he felt. Thank god for people like Paige and Ralph.

After everyone was done eating, Walter even offered to clean up everything by himself. "Would you like some help?" asked Paige, coming into the kitchen.

"No, you've done more than enough for everyone. I'll take care of this. How about you go keep an eye on the others for me?" asked Walter, gesturing to the team which was reassembled around the table. "Don't let them crack any mysteries until I get there," he teased.

Paige almost laughed. "Sure," she said, squeezing Walter's shoulder before she left.

Walter was almost done with the dishes when Cabe appeared behind him. "I have to be going soon, but if I could have a word with you before I leave?"

"Of course," said Walter, drying his hands. Cabe beckoned to the now-empty table and they both sat down. Of course, Cabe was never one to beat around the bush so he got straight to the point. "You want to tell me why you got me sunglasses with my vital statistics on them?"


	6. Chapter 6

**INTERMISSION—**We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this important message.

**Author's Note:** I wanted to ask the readers of Secret Santa for some input. So far, I have three alternate endings for this story, but I am torn on which one to choose. Therefore, I have two options. I can publish all three and each of you can decide which one you want to read or I can just choose one and have that be the official ending. Please let me know what you think. If no one is interested in reading this story anymore, then I will just publish one ending and tag the story as complete.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**—Alternate Ending A

"Simple," Walter said, showing no surprise at the question. "I noticed that your rate of being involved in car accidents is much higher than the average driver of Los Angeles. Now, one part of this is just because your work as a government agent is dangerous, and sometimes, you have to engineer a car accident. This is usually for the sake of helping us get to our target without delays."

Cabe smiled wryly as he remembered the LAX incident.

"And sometimes, the accidents are unintentional," Walter continued.

Cabe nodded, flashing back to the car chase on the Los Angeles freeway.

"Cabe," Walter said, his voice suddenly turning serious. "I was with you the last time you were in a car accident and I never forgot how I woke up and saw you bleeding from your forehead. Now, I'm not a physician and I never went to medical school, but I _am_ a genius so I devised my own way to make sure you were okay."

"So you designed these sunglasses." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, considering that you conduct most of your driving during the day and that you wear sunglasses while doing so, I engineered a pair of sunglasses which could feed off vital statistics." Here Walter took the sunglasses from Cabe and pointed out the miniscule wires running through them. "It has a trip mechanism so that if your vital statistics ever dip below a certain threshold, then it automatically dials 9-1-1 to let them know your location and critical condition. I also installed a night vision mode for when you're driving under low lighting as well."

"By God, it does," said Cabe as he put on the shades and tried different features. Then he took them off and squinted at them. "Is there any way to turn off the numbers in case they become a distraction?"

"Deactivate feed," Walter commanded and the numbers blinked out. "They will reactivate automatically if they sense your vitals going into overdrive."

Cabe took them off and rubbed his forehead. "For someone who is supposed to have a low EQ, you sure do know how to be thoughtful."

"It's practical," Walter said, as if he were stating a rebuttal to a silly argument.

Cabe smiled. Whereas others might view the gift as thoughtful, Walter thought of it in terms of practicality. The man was too pragmatic to realize when he was being considerate.

"So you're the Secret Santa," Cabe said finally.

"Actually, I'm not. Santa Claus gives out gifts to a select number of people by using arbitrary and ill-defined measures of what constitutes good and bad behavior. I, for one, gave something to everyone. However, the idea for giving out the presents was not mine so I claim no credit."

"I guessed that," said Cabe. He paused. "You're not at all curious as to how I found out it was you?"

Walter shook his head. "If someone were to look at the clues, they would be able to tell eventually. I just thought it was interesting that you were the first one to find out, although it all adds up since you've known me the longest."

"Well, I'll be damned. Never did I think that Walter O'Brien would pull off something like this."

"Neither can anyone else." Walter said, a sly and self-indulgent smile gracing over his features. "That's why it's the perfect ruse."

_That night…_

A woman was sitting up in bed going through a photo album when she heard a knock on her door.

"There's my curly-haired elf helper," she said, looking up from the book.

"Hi, Megan. I thought I would give out my last present."

"For me? Oh, you shouldn't have," said Megan, feigning modesty.

Walter smiled broadly, a smile he saved only for his sister, and brought out the long box tucked under his arm.

Megan unwrapped them to find a new pair of crutch supports.

"Titanium grade. I had Happy help me make them."

"Thank you!" Megan said, as she ran her fingers down the shiny new metal. Then she looked up at her genius brother, her eyes curious and sparkling. "And was this before or after they found out that you were the one behind all of the gifts?"

"That was after. They didn't take it too well."

"You want to tell me what happened?"

"Well, Happy tried to sock me in the face for scaring everybody. Sylvester couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to hug me. Toby just shook his head and said, 'It's always the one you least expect,' and Paige—"

"Kissed you on the cheek," Megan finished. Walter gave her a look. "How did you know that?"

"It doesn't take a genius to notice that you have lipstick on your face."

Walter's hand immediately flew to his face. He rubbed it self-consciously as Megan laughed.

"Come on, tell me more about it. Details, Walt," Megan said, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. She reached out her hand to him and he took it. "I want to hear all about Walter O'Brien, the world's first genius Secret Santa."

Walter sat down near her bed. "I don't know how _I'm_ the Secret Santa considering that it was all your idea, but if you wish..." Walter began.

"I do wish," Megan said, squeezing his hand.

Walter smiled again. "All right, where do I begin? So I tried sneaking into Scorpion headquarters at daybreak this morning, but I didn't expect anyone else to show up so early so when Happy's motorcycle pulled in, I had to quickly lock the door again and hide. Then I ran around putting all the gifts in their right places, and, of course, a gift for myself so no one would suspect me, not that they would anyway..."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**—Alternate Ending B

"I…didn't," said Walter.

Cabe stared at him for a long time, as if trying to sum up something. Finally, he sighed in exasperation. "Well, if it wasn't you and if it wasn't Happy, then who was it?! I don't know of anyone else who could think up of such an idea!"

"We will figure it out," said Walter. "It can't be long before—"

A squeal and a gasp came from the other room before Walter could finish. Cabe and Walter rushed out to find the garage in a bit of chaos. Apparently, Sylvester had tried taking Tweety of the birdcage and now he and everyone else were trying to re-capture her. "I didn't think it would fly away from me!" Sylvester cried as he pranced around the room after his bird.

Ralph held out something in his hand. "Here, Tweety," he called. Lured by the sight of food, Tweety flew over to Ralph's outstretched hand and took in some of the lettuce the boy was offering. Speaking soothing words to the bird, Ralph carefully led it back to the birdcage and coaxed it in. Sylvester stopped just short of the boy, shaking from nerves and excitement. Ralph took Sylvester's hand again until he could calm down.

The bespectacled genius smiled down at the boy. "Thanks, Ralph. You've been such a great help." He paused. "As a matter of fact, it's almost Christmas, and I have something for you."

"Actually, I do, too," said Toby.

"Me, too," said Happy, as she scampered off after her friends.

"Well, I guess I better go get my present then," said Walter.

"Clearly, we have a favorite around here," said Paige, coming up to Ralph and mussing his hair.

The geniuses came back with bundles in their arms. "For you," they said to Ralph.

The boy looked up at his mom, as if asking her permission.

Paige seemed to understand him. "Of course you can accept them. These are your friends."

Ralph stepped forward and received a gift from each one of them, a heavy box from Sylvester, a not-so-heavy one from Happy, a small box from Toby, and a strangely-shaped one from Walter.

"Ralph," Paige said, deciding to take this opportunity as a teaching moment. "What do we say when people do nice things for us?"

To everyone's surprise, Ralph launched himself into their arms, his eyes squeezed shut against his tears.

"Well, that's the best thank you I've ever gotten," said Walter. The others laughed. "Go on ahead, open your presents."

Once Ralph had unwrapped everything, he unveiled a new chess set from Sylvester, a remote control airplane from Happy, and a Brainquest game from Toby. The last gift he held up for everyone to see. It was black box covered in leather with something round protruding from one side. "A camera," explained Walter. "I built it myself. Ralph has been talking about how he wants more pictures of everyone so I thought this would be a good opportunity to teach him photography."

"Thank you, Walter. Everybody." Paige said, blinking back tears herself.

Ralph held the camera, looking from his mother to the gift and then back to her. Then he came up to Walter and whispered something to him. Walter's eyes lit up. "Why don't you ask her yourself?" he asked, smiling in encouragement.

Ralph stepped over to his mother and whispered the same thing to her.

"Of course, Ralph." Paige answered. "You can ask the whole group, too."

Moments, later, Happy had on her new boots, Toby donned his new hat, and Sylvester was trying to balance Tweety on his index finger. Paige emerged from the bathroom in her new dress, the dark green folds glimmering when they caught the light. Ralph took his mother's hand and led her over to where the group was assembled. Walter held up his blueprints and Cabe stood with his sunglasses on. "Everyone say geniuses!"

_Click._

Ralph snapped a few pictures and Walter loaded them onto the computer. He was looking them over, his eyes inadvertently lingering on Paige in her new dress. She looked…nice. More than nice. She looked…angelic. And the dress seemed to fit her so well. Like it was made for her, with the sash hugging her middle and the emerald color offsetting her brown eyes.

Walter froze. A custom-made emerald dress. Boots which fit perfectly. A hat with Toby's initials on it. Hi-tech sunglasses. Blueprints buried at the bottom of multiple boxes…

"I think I know who's our Secret Santa," he said, so quietly that almost no one heard him.

"What?" asked Paige, who had come up behind him to look at the picture. Walter did not hear her, however. He was busy glancing over the gift items as he ran calculations through his head.

"It all makes sense now…" he muttered. With a click of a button, he printed the picture Ralph had taken and tucked it away. _Let's see what our Secret Santa has to say to this_…he thought to himself.

_That evening…_

A tiny woman was just about to leave her office when she noticed a round, brightly painted doll perched on one of her tea tins. "Now what is this?" she said softly, reaching out to it. Her hand was mere inches away when—

"You might want to check that out first, just in case it's a bomb."

The woman wheeled around. A man with olive skin and curly hair was sitting at her desk, swiveling in her chair. "That's what _we_ did when you sent _us_ gifts," the man remarked.

"Walter O'Brien," the woman stated.

"Henrietta Lange," the man replied.

"I assume you are here for more reasons than just to warn me about mysterious dolls lying round my office."

"Of course," Walter said, standing up. "I came to give you a message." He cleared his throat and gestured behind Hetty. "You'll find it in the doll. Or dolls, I should say."

"Ah, you figured out my Matryoshka dolls."

"But of course," said Walter. "And no, there's nothing dangerous in there. Just a note from all of us at Scorpion."

Hetty gave a small smile, barely perceptible. Smart people had a way of doing that. Walter reached over, plucked the doll off of the tea tin, and held it out to Hetty. The NCIS operations manager took the round, carved figure into her nimble hands and carefully opened it, extracting one doll from another. In the smallest doll was a sheet of glossy paper. She removed it from the nesting doll and unfolded it. It featured a picture of everyone at Scorpion brandishing their gifts. On the back of the picture, handwritten words said, "Thanks Hetty! From all of us here at Scorpion to you." This was followed by everyone's signature.

"Merry Christmas, Hetty," said Walter.

"The same to you, Mr. O'Brien."

She held the picture up to his face. "You know, some would argue that photography is a kind of art form."

"I wouldn't necessarily agree with that. Originally, it was made to be a chemical process in which light entering the lenses of a camera—"

Hetty held up a hand. "If we're going to debate about art, I would rather do it over a cup of tea. Join me, Mr. O'Brien?"

"Gladly," said Walter, moving to help her prepare the tea. "Gladly."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9—**Alternate Ending C

**Author's Note:** I wrote this ending for one of my guest readers, who requested a story with lots of Waige and Quintis. It ended up being much longer than I originally intended, but I don't think anyone will mind. :)

Walter smiled. Barely. It was not perceptible to anyone but those who knew him well, but Cabe knew him pretty well. "I'll tell you why I got you the sunglasses if you tell me why you got me those blueprints," he said.

Cabe smiled, too. "Fine then. I will." He retrieved the blueprints and laid them out on the table. "You remember that friend you helped on Sunday? The one who needed a security software update?"

Walter nodded.

"Well, that woman also happens to hold security clearance and full access to some of the most sophisticated bio-technology in the nation. After we helped her, I took her aside and asked for a favor in getting you these. I thought they would help in your research with Cabe, Jr."

Walter scanned the blueprints, his eyes roaming intelligently over its layout and design. In mere moments, everything began to make sense. _That's what they are,_ he thought, taking them up in his hands. After a silence, he lowered the blueprints and said, "Thank you, Cabe. You don't know how much this means to me."

"Actually, I can venture a guess. You've been doing research on that mouse for God knows how long." Here, he stopped and his voice lowered a notch. "And I know how much your sister means to you. You're my son and that means I value Megan as if she were my own daughter. It's the least I could do."

Walter stared down at the table and smiled. Cabe really did know how to be a good father figure to him.

"Now, if you'll kindly explain about the sunglasses," Cabe prompted, holding them up. "I figured that it was you, and I understand why you chose sunglasses, but…_why the vital statistics?"_

"Simple," Walter said, showing no surprise at the question. "I noticed that your rate of being involved in car accidents is much higher than the average driver of Los Angeles. Now, one part of this is just because your work as a government agent is dangerous, and sometimes, you have to engineer a car accident. This is usually for the sake of helping us get to our target without delays."

Cabe smiled wryly as he remembered the LAX incident.

"And sometimes, the accidents are unintentional," Walter continued.

Cabe nodded, flashing back to the car chase on the Los Angeles freeway.

"Cabe," Walter said, his voice suddenly turning serious. "I was with you the last time you were in a car accident and I never forgot how I woke up and saw you bleeding from your forehead. Now, I'm not a physician and I never went to medical school, but I _am_ a genius so I devised my own way to make sure you were okay."

"So you designed these sunglasses." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, considering that you conduct most of your driving during the day and that you wear sunglasses while doing so, I engineered a pair of sunglasses which could feed off vital statistics." Here Walter took the sunglasses from Cabe and pointed out the miniscule wires running through them. "It has a trip mechanism so that if your vital statistics ever dip below a certain threshold, then it automatically dials 9-1-1 to let them know your location and critical condition. I also installed a night vision mode for when you're driving under low lighting as well."

"By God, it does," said Cabe as he put on the shades and tried different features. Then he took them off and squinted at them. "Is there any way to turn off the numbers in case they become a distraction?"

"Deactivate feed," Walter commanded and the numbers blinked out. "They will reactivate automatically if they sense your vitals going into overdrive."

Cabe took them off and rubbed his forehead. "For someone who is supposed to have a low EQ, you sure do know how to be thoughtful."

"It's practical," Walter said, as if he were stating a rebuttal to a silly argument.

Cabe smiled. Whereas others might view the gift as thoughtful, Walter thought of it in terms of practicality. The man was too pragmatic to realize when he was being considerate.

"So you're the Secret Santa," Cabe said finally.

"Actually, I'm not. I did make you the sunglasses, but most of these gifts are not from me. I just don't know who would have the motive, opportunity, and means to sneak in all of them." Walter wrinkled his forehead as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless, it was more than one person…"

That night, Paige had surprised them all with a sumptuous Christmas dinner. "Prepared in the style of an Irish dinner," she stated.

Everyone gawked at the scene which Paige had carefully laid out. One of the larger rooms had been cleared to accommodate a banquet table covered with a festive green tablecloth and lined with silver plates. The tabletop was illuminated with tall candles and decorated with holly. The food, however, the food was what took their breath away.

"Scalloped potatoes and stuffed goose, smoked salmon and roast vegetables, Irish cheese and soda bread, plum pudding and scones with cream ," Walter murmured, not believing his eyes.

"Someone's been doing their research," mumbled Toby, laughing quietly.

"I picked up a few things working at the diner," Paige said. "The rest took a bit of work and, like you said, research," Paige said, clearly proud of what she had done. When everyone remained standing and staring at her handiwork, she cleared her throat. "If everyone will wash their hands and take a seat, I will be with you shortly."

"Where are you going?" asked Walter. "Aren't you going to join us?"

"Oh, I will," answered Paige. "I'm just going to change into my Christmas present first. I have a feeling that whoever gave it to me has been dying to see me in it," she grinned, her eyes glittering as she left the room with the emerald dress over one arm.

"Really? You think Paige knows who it is?" asked Sylvester.

"Well, whoever it is must know Paige well. _Really_ well…" Happy remarked.

Hours later, when everyone had eaten their fill, Paige came up to whisper in Walter's ear, "Thank you for the dress. I love it."

Walter sputtered, the spoon of plum pudding quivering halfway to his mouth. "How did you—"

"Who else has ever held me when I was wearing a dress?" Paige said simply, her eyebrows waggling devilishly.

Walter felt a slight blush creep onto his face and was thankful that the others had left the room. "Hey," he said, catching her hand as she moved away. "Thank you for making Christmas dinner for us. It's the best I've ever had."

"You're welcome," Paige said, smiling so brightly that she seemed to glow. Walter felt his stomach do something similar to a somersault and he had a strange feeling it had nothing to do with the food.

"I was thinking of taking some food to Megan." Paige said, breaking through his thoughts. "What do you think?"

"I think she would love that," Walter said, getting up to help her. His last thought as he rose from the table consisted of, _I wonder what Megan would think if Paige and I were to…._

Happy found Toby in the other room, watching Sylvester and Ralph play with Tweety. "Thanks for the motorcycle boots," she remarked as she sat down next to him. Toby stiffened. His head turned towards her mechanically. Happy laughed. "After thinking about it all day, I realized that no one has seen my feet before except for you, so…thanks for the boots."

Toby finally nodded. "Thanks for the hat," he said in reply.

"You're welcome," Happy smiled, showing no surprise at the remark. "I thought it would suit you." She handed him a beer. "I also wired it with a tracking device in case you get hung over another balcony or take a tumble down a ravine again. It's embedded in the band and wasn't the easiest thing for me to seal in so _don't lose it_," Happy said, jabbing a finger pointedly into Toby's chest. To her surprise, Toby wrapped his hand around her fingers and pressed them into his shirt.

"I would never lose anything you gave me, Happy," he said, his eyes soft but serious.

Happy felt her face grow warm. "You better not," she huffed, trying to deflect her feelings as well as Toby's unspoken meaning.

Toby sensed her discomfort, but couldn't help pulling her toward him. "I mean it," he said. "You know that I love hats so you cared enough to get me a new one when I kept losing mine. Not only that, you went to extra lengths to make sure I wouldn't lose this one. Which means it's important to you. I promise I'll take care of it." Toby could feel Happy squirming under his gaze so he finally decided to let her off the hook. "Of course, giving me a hat feels almost as good as when you gave me your heart."

Happy's look of discomfort was rapidly replaced with one of fury and indignation. _Ah, there's the Happy I know and love, _thought Toby.

"You're off your rocker, doctor. It's a stupid hat, not my heart," Happy scoffed, attempting to extract her hand from his grasp. "Are you ever going to let go of my hand?" she snapped, trying to sound irritated when she really just felt mounting anxiety.

"Nope," Toby said, as he placed the hand to his heart. "Besides, you touched me first."

"I was trying to make a point. Now let go of me before my other hand forms a fist and quickly finds the side of your face."

Toby chuckled, raised Happy's hand to his face, and pressed his lips against it before he finally let go. The psychiatrist smiled as he enjoyed watching a slight tremor run through Happy before he released her.

The mechanic swiftly took her hand back and jammed it underneath her jacket to keep Toby from seeing it shake. She took a swig of beer to calm herself before she said, "I think Sylvester likes the bird you got him."

Toby stared ahead at their genius friend who was trying to whistle to Tweety, hoping the bird would sing with him. "I hope so. It's the least I can do after I crashed his Birdroni." He glanced at her quickly. "What about those forearm crutches you made for Megan?"

"I just got off the phone with her. She loved them. She also loves the butterflies you put on them. That was a good idea."

"Thanks," Toby said, taking a swig from his beer. "You think Walter's mad that we went behind his back and did Secret Santa anyway?"

"I don't see why he would be mad. He gave away some gifts himself."

"Yes, I guess he's the pot and we're the kettle."

"And it brought him and Paige closer together."

"How could it not? Walter got her a dress which he knew would be perfect for her, especially since Paige doesn't have much formal wear. I just wonder if she'll wear it when they go out on that date they've both been dancing around."

"So you picked up on that, too?"

"Happy," Toby said, a mock serious look coming over his face. "You're speaking to a world-class shrink here. I wouldn't live up to my reputation if I didn't pick up on stuff like that."

Happy sniffed. "If you're such a good shrink, then how come you can't get them together?"

"I'm a clinical psychologist, not Cupid. My license and diploma says 'psych doctor', not 'love doctor.' Besides, you never push people before they're ready."

"Then how come you push me so much?"

Toby finished up the last of his beer. "That's because you want me to, you just won't admit it to yourself."

This time, Happy's hand really did find the side of his face. Toby yelped in pain as she yanked on his ear and brought him down to meet her blazing eyes.

"Stop reading me, you crazy shrink," Happy growled. She meant it to sound threatening, but Toby could tell that, in reality, she just felt sad. Raw and vulnerable. Even a little shy.

Because of this, he just remained staring into her eyes, holding her gaze. It was like he was saying, _It's okay. I'm here for you. No matter how much pain you inflict or how much you push me away, no matter how often you run or how high you build your walls, I will still be here…always. _He communicated all of this with his eyes, providing a holding environment for the tumult of emotions roiling through her, providing a safe haven for the little girl inside of Happy who still believed that people would let her down and abandon her.

Toby knew it was working, too, when he saw the light shift in her eyes. Slowly, she released him, much more gently than either of them expected.

"You know," Happy said, her voice quiet. "For someone who's been burned by love, you sure have a lot of faith in it."

_That's because I have you in my life,_ Toby wanted to say. Instead he rubbed his aching ear and said, "Who knows? Maybe I should be a love doctor. Maybe one day, I'll have my own holiday. The Tobias M. Curtis Day, complete with my own brand of candy, greeting cards, and holiday traditions."

"Yeah, like butting into people's business and acting condescending to everyone."

Toby stroked his beard. "Yeah, that sounds about right," he said, laughing. Then he looked down at his empty bottle. "I'm about done. You want another one?" he asked, getting up and stretching.

Happy shook her head. She sat staring at her friends playing with the bird, but really, her mind was elsewhere. Before long, Toby came back and handed her a glass of water. "To prevent dehydration," he explained. "We did have quite a bit to drink tonight," he said, quirking a small smile at her.

Happy nodded, and downed the glass. She thought that it was sweet of Toby to do that until she realized that the water had a funny aftertaste…

"Toby! What did you put in this water?!"

"Nothing," Toby said innocently. "It's just water, straight from the tap, I swear!"

"If I find out that you drugged me or something…"

"Now, now, why would I drug you, Happy? You know how old-fashioned I am, which only means that I would like to seduce you under nothing but the most _honorable_ circumstances," he said, grinning like the devil he was.

Happy got up to chase him anyway, but inside she smiled. This was yet another happy memory she would store away for years to come. "You better hope you're not too drunk to run, Tobias, because here I come!"

_And I wouldn't have it any other way, _Toby thought as he took off, one hand holding onto his hat and the other pressed over his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10—**Alternate Ending D

**Author's Note—**Some readers seem to be some confused about Cabe's daughter and whether or not she was alive. If I remember correctly, Cabe has two daughters, one named Joanna who is 17 years old, and Amanda, who died as a child. At least, I think that's how it goes…

"Actually, it wasn't me, although I'm curious now as to why you would think that," Walter stated, giving the agent a curious look.

"It's just…I was talking to Happy and we deduced that the only other people who would know how to design something like this would either be you or Sylvester. Since Sylvester is none too adept at keeping a secret, that just left—"

"Me," said Walter. "Yes, that would make sense, except I don't know why the vital statistics would be on there. Most people only need their vital statistics measured when they are visiting the doctor…"

"Perhaps Toby?" suggested Cabe.

Walter shook his head. "Toby is smart, but he wouldn't have the know-how to build something like this. Unless someone like Happy helped him…"

"But if they did it, then why keep it a secret?"

Walter shrugged, concentrating. "I'm running through the possibilities in my head. Something else doesn't add up. Why vital statistics? The reasons for why someone would need them to be measured include doctor's visits, surgery, medical procedures, critical condition…."

"Wouldn't critical condition be covered under surgery and medical procedures?"

Walter shook his head again. "Not necessarily. Paramedics and emergency technicians also do it when someone has an accident, like a fall, or a sports injury, or…"

"A car accident," they both said together.

"That's it!" Walter cried. "You wear sunglasses when you drive, correct?"

Cabe nodded. "Correct. Pretty much every time."

"Then these sunglasses might be for measuring your vital statistics should you ever get into a car accident!"

"That makes sense, but who would do something like this? Who would know that I get into lots of car accidents?"

"That's what we want to find out. It must be someone who knows you well..."

By nightfall, the team had come no closer to figuring out their Secret Santa. Everyone was growing tired, even if they didn't admit it. Paige tried to coax them into getting some rest, but they were too stubborn to comply.

"Don't worry about them," Cabe said before he left. "There's nothing geniuses love more than a puzzle they haven't solved."

Paige had to settle for that explanation and shortly afterward, decided to take Ralph home. He seemed a bit tired and although he smiled often, he grew more and more quiet.

As they were preparing to leave, Ralph asked his mother if he could go see a friend before they went home for the night.

"Sure. Who is this friend?" asked Paige, genuinely curious about a friend of Ralph's whom she hadn't met before.

Ralph glanced around to make sure that no one was listening, then he whispered something into his mother's ear.

"Oh," Paige said, playing along. "You want to go see Santa. Sure, I can take you, honey."

As they backed out of the garage's alley, Paige began to head towards the mall, thinking that Ralph wanted to see the mall Santa which he had visited every year since he was little.

Once they reached the highway, however, Ralph said that his friend wasn't at the mall and he directed her towards a different route instead. Finally, Paige pulled up in front of a large building which was most definitely not the mall.

"Why are you visiting your friend here, Ralph?" Paige asked, genuinely confused. "Santa doesn't live at a…"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. "Ah," she said. "I see what's going on."

A woman was sitting at a kitchen table going through a photo album and drinking cocoa when she heard a knock on her door.

"Ah, there's my little helper," she said, looking up from the book as a small boy shyly padded in.

"Hi, Mrs. Burns," said Ralph.

"Hello, Ralph. I'm surprised and pleased to see you again, but are you here by yourself? How did you get here?"

"My mother is waiting in the car. I asked her if I could have a few minutes with you."

"Of course. Your mother is very kind to take you all the way here. Please sit. Would you like some hot chocolate?"

Ralph nodded as he took a seat.

"How did it go at Scorpion headquarters?" she asked as she set down the steaming mug of hot chocolate for him.

"Operation Secret Santa went according to plan. Everyone looked pleased and the gifts were…more than satisfactory," Ralph said, trying to sum up everyone's reaction as succinctly as he could.

"I'm so glad. You know I couldn't have done it without you," Rebecca said, smiling kindly at the boy genius.

Ralph merely nodded. "It was a good idea, if somewhat convoluted."

Rebecca laughed. "I see Walter is rubbing off on you already." Then she thought of something. "But, surely, you did not come all the way out here just to tell me this? While I appreciate your visit, it's quite the drive. Maybe I can make it up to you and visit you someday?"

Ralph nodded again. "We would like that," he said, thinking she meant to visit everyone at Scorpion. Then he hesitated. "I do have a reason: I thought I would give something to you, since you gave so many presents to everyone else."

"For me?" she asked. "How very thoughtful of you. I wasn't expecting this."

Ralph produced a small gift bag and handed it over. Rebecca took it with gratitude, and then gasped with tears when she found out what was inside. In the folds of the tissue paper was a model of an angel which Ralph had made out of recycled parts. The angel was attached to a little silver string and the words painted at the bottom read, "Amanda."

"Thank you," Rebecca said, turning it in her trembling hands. "You don't know how much this means to me, but…how did you know?"

"My mom told me. She tells me lots of stories about Walter and Cabe and the team. She was really sad one day when she came home and when I offered to paint her nails, she told me about how they had worked a case with you. Then she cried and said that you and Cabe lost your daughter. I asked for the daughter's name and…" here he only gestured at the little angel figurine.

Rebecca smiled through her tears. "You really are a very special boy. Your mother is lucky to have you."

"That I am," said Paige, from the doorway.

"Oh!" Rebecca motioned for her to come in and they all sat around chatting and admiring the figurine.

Once Paige and Ralph had left, Rebecca hung the angel on a little Christmas tree she kept near her window. She stood gazing at it for a minute before going to bed, but just before she turned out the light, Rebecca turned to look at it one last time and she _almost_ thought she saw the angel smile.

**Author's Note:** A big shout-out and thank you to everyone who read and reviewed as well as who favorited and followed this story! I never imagined I could write something which could garner 50 followers so I am much in gratitude for your support! Thank you, my lovelies, and I will see you around the fanfiction kingdom! ~mouseears


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